Midnight Howl

chapter 2

Aidan rolled onto his side and groaned as another cramp rampaged through his whole body. His sheets were damp and clamped to his body with sweat. He gritted his teeth until the pain had abated.

Had someone drugged him? Had he been shot? He checked his body for marks but none appeared. He stumbled into the bathroom to look at his face, catching his hand on the shaving cream. It clattered to the floor. He looked at the mirror; his cheeks were flushed unpleasantly red, but his face looked no more tired then it did after a long shift at work.

Another cramp rolled through his body and he stiffened, grabbing the side of the sink to steady himself. He turned away from the mirror.

The doorbell rang. He cursed under his breath and prepared to hobble to the door. He took a deep breath and managed several steps before another shock of pain hit him like lightning. He grabbed the door handle with shaky hands and opened it.

"I brought chicken soup," said the man at the door.

Aidan said nothing. The man seemed to take this as a cue to come in. Aidan gritted his teeth. How had that man found his house? His eye, the one slashed with a scar, was unnervingly bone white, both sclera and iris. Both of his eyes were trained on Aidan now.

"Did you drug me?" asked Aidan, his teeth clenched.

The man eyed him lazily, as if a cat had come across a mouse that wanted to fight.

"No," he said, "But I bet you wish I had."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of ibuprofen. He put it on the kitchen table.

"How did you find me?"

Aidan had already started mentally calculating the distance to his bedroom where his service pistol was stowed neatly away in the bottom drawer.

The guy tapped his nose. Aidan felt a flare of irritation.

"Followed your scent through the city. Wasn't hard when you're that soaked in sweat."

Aidan started to walk and stumbled in pain. The man caught him deftly as Aidan started writhing, twisting, eyes rolling backwards.

Aidan was faintly aware of strong arms carrying him to his bed. He opened his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"I will be," said Aidan, in a weak voice.

Then he grabbed the pistol out of the drawer and cocked it, aiming squarely at the man.

The man did not seem scared, on the contrary, he seemed amused.

"What did you do to me?" Demanded Aidan.

"I didn't do anything," smirked the man, "If you've got a problem, take it up with God."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Aidan replied flatly.

The man sighed.

"You're experiencing a mild case of serotonin syndrome. It's common after bondings. "

"Bondings?"

"Mating. Bonding."

At Aidan's blank stare, the man continued.

"Werewolves do not choose who they marry. They experience a central nervous system response that informs them who the most biologically compatible mate is. In humans, who's bodies were not built for such a response, they often experience stress and pain when it does happen."

"Are we.. bonded?"

"Congratulations," said the man, still smirking, "You win the grand prize. A lifetime of this."